Maura
by Laoise Potter
Summary: One-shot. When Hope leaves Maura's house with her one and only daughter in tow, Kaylen can't help but wonder why it all happened the way it did. Kaylen's POV.


I didn't think she'd give in so easily.

My hands don't move from the ten-and-two position and I stare straight ahead as I drive home, completely numb to any emotion. My mother sits, sobbing, in the passenger seat, completely beside herself. So many thoughts are crowding for attention inside my head. Why did this happen? How different are our lives going to be, now that everybody knows? When would the truth have come out? Would it have come out at all?

"_You put it back up."_

I still can't believe it exists in the first place.

"_I went snooping. I found it, in the bathroom. I mean, it is my mother, isn't it?"_

She looked like both of us at that age. We have the same hair, the same eyes and mouth. Maura has her cheeks and nose. The picture shows it all; it's obvious that we're related.

"_And that's…that's your gravestone. Which is weird, because you look okay to me."_

How can somebody be dead, but not dead at all? Where do they go? What do they become? I wish, more than anything, that I didn't know the answers to those questions. Life would be so much easier if I didn't know the answer to those questions.

"_Please, just let me explain. I didn't mean for any of this t—"_

"_Do you have _any_ idea what it's like to grow up in the shadow of a dead baby? I was never enough."_

My knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. Even though I was living, and breathing, and _there_, I was never enough. The mere memory of Maura meant more to my mother than my entire existence.

"_You are more than enough. She loves you. I know you think I should have told her, I should have told the both of you—"_

"_Yeah! Yeah."_

"_I want to help you."_

"_I don't want your help! And I don't want your kidney either."_

We never remained in one place because my mother constantly needed to escape the pain. She blamed herself for Maura's death and dedicated her life to paying back an uncompensable debt. She brought me to Africa for relief work, and that's where I contracted my horrible disease. When it comes down to it, I'm dying because of Maura. I'm dying because her memory made my mother run to the farthest reaches of the globe in order to find some relief from the agony. I went to her house tonight with that idea fresh in my mind. Maura was the origin of the biggest problem in my life, and I wasn't going to let her stick around long enough to be the solution.

"_Yeah. Yeah, I…I thought that was you. You just…you don't get a match like that from a stranger."_

"_Please…don't throw your life away because of what you think of me."_

I had no life to throw away because of her, and I didn't hesitate to tell her what I thought about it.

"_I don't want _any _part of you living in me."_

My mother showed up with the police at that moment. I really thought Maura was just going to stand there and let me take all the blame. I would not have been the least bit surprised. Adults always seem to think along that same line: my actions are my responsibility, despite how far out of my control the circumstances I needed to act upon were, and I need to accept the consequences.

"_Hope…there's something I need to tell you."_

_Your less-than-perfect daughter is having a mental breakdown. She accused me of being somebody I'm not in a fit of rage. That's not you in the picture, it's just some artwork I bought at a flea market._ I was ready for any and every lie possible to fall out of that woman's mouth.

"_I'm Paddy Doyle's daughter."_

What I wasn't ready for was for her to throw all her cards on the table.

"_What?"_

"_I'm your daughter."_

All the anger, all the sadness, and all the hate drained out of me in that moment. I was unable to comprehend, unable to feel anything but complete and utter shock and confusion.

"_I know that must be strange to hear—"_

"_Don't say that!"_

And then, my mother claimed me. For the first time in my life, I was her one and only daughter. She stared directly into the face of her most painful memory and denied its—_her—_very existence by claiming me as her sole child. Just like that, Maura Doyle was dead once again. It had all come full circle. My actions had killed the memory that was killing me.

The patrol car turns around and heads back down the street the moment I turn into our driveway. I throw the car into park, kill the ignition and sit back, staring straight forward. As I listen to my mother's sobs, I can see Maura's face in my head. She and my mother look so much alike. I can't help but wonder who raised her. Who was bold enough to agree to bring up the child of a mob boss and a college student? What kind of life did she inherit? Why did she wait so long to find her biological family? When did she decide to do it in the first place? I look over at my mother and watch her cry. Maura's face crumpled just like that when we left; I watched her as I was pulled forcefully out of the house. It was a startling moment—as much as I hated Maura for the hours that I and I alone knew the truth, all those emotions were gone when everything came out. I found myself feeling sorry for her as we made our exit, and truly had no idea why.

Slowly, as I listen to my mother try to quiet her cries, I realize this isn't Maura's fault. None of it is. My mother was the one who made the decision to sleep with Paddy Doyle in college and dragged me to Africa. Paddy was the one who killed Maura and handed her over to a completely different life. Maura _isn't_ the root of all this. She's as at fault for her life as much as I am to blame for mine. We're victims, living and dying because of one choice made by one woman. We are both Hope's daughter.

"She was the match."

My mother has to take several large, shaky breaths in order to get herself calm enough to answer. "She…wh-what?"

"The anonymous donor. It was Maura."

She inhales sharply. I continue to stare straight ahead, unable to bring myself to look at her. "She volunteered herself because she knew it would work out. She knew we were sisters." I shake my head slowly. "And I declined, because I hated her. But she's just a victim of circumstance, just like me. We're the same, in that way." Swallowing down a lump in my throat, I feel my heart harden. "Us kids just can't win, can we, Mom?"

I hear her sob and shaking fingers brush my arm. "Kaylen…"

"No." I shrug her hand off and open the door, sliding out of the car. "No. I…I can't. Not now. Not with you. I just…_can't_."

I shut the door and start walking towards the house. Hugging my tablet to my chest, I think about my terrible decision and how surely it proves that I am my mother's daughter. _I just can't win, can I, Mom?_

There is no way I'm falling asleep tonight.


End file.
